[ mavis sits with that apology for a long, uncomfortable silence. she can feel his grief, his sincerity, as surely as she had felt his hunger. both had felt like him.
she draws nearer to him, studying his face. close enough to touch but never closing the distance entirely.
then she reaches into the back of her waistband and produces a kitchen knife. she holds it by the blade, offers it to him. her good knife was lost to the void, but this one will serve for now. ]
no subject
she draws nearer to him, studying his face. close enough to touch but never closing the distance entirely.
then she reaches into the back of her waistband and produces a kitchen knife. she holds it by the blade, offers it to him. her good knife was lost to the void, but this one will serve for now. ]
Take it. Hurt me.